


Lost & Found

by datleggy



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, Dad Evan "Buck" Buckley, Gen, Injury, M/M, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 15:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21148010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datleggy/pseuds/datleggy
Summary: Prompt: werepanther AU. Buck is lone panther who keeps to himself. Then as he is hunting one night he literally stumbles onto this dead female panther with a precious little cub clinging to her. Buck instantly loses his heart to the cub named Christopher and takes all care of him. He knows he has to try and find Chris’s pack. They set out towards the mountains. No sooner do they get there Buck is surrounded by a pack with an enraged Eddie looking to tear him apart for “kidnapping” his baby.





	Lost & Found

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt :) thank u anon!!! 
> 
> Tumblr: datleggy.tumblr.com

Evan Buckley has always been alone. 

For as long as he can remember, it's just been him. He'd once been a part of a pack, but his mother had gotten terribly ill and passed and not two months later his father had abandoned him and the rest of the pack. 

Buck had been a young cub, and nobody in the pack had been willing or able to care for him at the time. He was too little to contribute, and had been considered just another mouth to feed. He'd been abandoned by them, too, less than a week later. 

He's managed to survive on his own, somehow, scavenging, learning to hunt by watching others from a far, safe distance, and generally watching out only for himself. 

That is, until he comes across a cub much the same age as he was when he'd been left to fend for himself. 

The smell of death hits him like a freight train, and he has to huff to get the scent out from his nostrils. The baby cub is curled around the corpse of what Buck can only assume is his mother. 

Buck prowls the vicinity, making his steps silent, so as not to startle the cub awake. He sniffs around, but there's no other creature in the immediate area, no danger. Good. 

Buck considers leaving the cub there. Eventually it'll either succumb to hunger and poor weather conditions, considering the cold winter they're currently having, or it'll get attacked by whoever took it's mother's life.

Either way, it's really not Buck's problem. He would be borrowing trouble, if anything, by trying to help the cub. Buck is a lone panther and others can smell it on him; this cub smells strongly of others, he belongs to a pack, Buck would be risking his own safety by getting involved. 

It's not worth the trouble. That's what Buck tells himself, even as he makes his way towards the cub, resigning himself to his fate. He gently paws at him. 

The little thing lets out a frightened but tiny growl and burrows itself even deeper into his mother's side. 

Buck backs away and circles the perimeter one more time before lying down a few inches away from the cub. 

He lays there, perfectly still, for a very long time, before the cub finally looks up at him, eyes alight with nervous curiosity. 

Buck makes eye contact and slowly bares his neck to the other panther, leaving himself dangerously vulnerable. 

After what feels like forever the cub draws himself up and goes near. Buck notices the awkward way in which he's moving, almost like it's difficult. He wonders if he's injured, and then wonders again if he shouldn't just leave the cub and save himself the pain. 

The cub sniffs him hesitantly, his nose scrunching up. 

After Buck thinks the cub has had enough of exploring the new panther, he sniffs back, pawing at him lightly. 

He's shaking but it's less fear, and more the fact that it's nearly night time now, and whatever warmth the sun had been providing is gone. 

Buck makes the cub to say a final goodbye to his mother before lifting him up in his mouth and looking for shelter for the night. 

They find a hollow cave on the side of a mountain and Buck carries the young cub with him deep inside, where the cold cannot reach them. 

In the morning Buck will have the cub transform into his human counterpart so that he can tell him from which pack he hails and they'll go from there. Until then, they should rest. 

He sets the cub down and lays down across from him, making himself comfortable. He closes his eyes and is just drifting when he feels something soft and warm collide into him. It's the cub, staring at him with shy but expectant eyes. 

Buck growls at the cub and pushes him away like he's got the plague. It's been years and years since he last had such physical contact, and he certainly isn't about to allow it now. He cannot let himself get at all attached to the cub. 

He needs to return him to wherever it is he belongs. 

The cub whines a sad pathetic noise in the back of his throat but doesn't dare try to get close again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Buck wakes up the next morning to stifled sobbing. 

Instead of the small brown cub, he's staring at a human boy with brown, almost blonde curly hair. He's got a pair of thick rimmed glasses on, a striped white and yellow t-shirt and faded blue jeans. 

He's a cute kid. Too skinny, but it might account for how oddly he was moving the day before, because it doesn't seem as though he's injured. 

Buck doesn't transform. He hasn't in a long time, and he doesn't see the point in doing so now. He walks over and bumps his head on the boys knee. 

"I want my daddy." He cries, blinking back tears. 

Buck tilts his head in question. 

"We live in Palo Alto, but I don't know how to get there." He explains. 

Buck is vaguely familiar with that area, though not overly so. He doesn't go into towns very often, choosing to live in the outskirts, where he can hunt and catch his meals instead of having to rely on others. 

Sometimes he'll pass through a town in order to avoid tougher terrain during the summer seasons, but normally he steers clear. 

Still, he's pretty sure he can get the child back to his pack. Buck makes a noise of recognition when the boy mentions Palo Alto. 

"You know where?" He asks, hopeful. 

Buck nods his head, bumping it against his knee again, this time in reassurance. 

The boy wipes his tears and sniffles. "My name's Christopher." 

Buck had hoped they could skip introductions, he doesn't want to know anymore than he needs to, to get him home. Still, he simply nods and paws at him. 

Christopher seems to understand and shifts back into his panther form. Buck nods in approval. It'll be easier to travel with a cub, as opposed to a human child. 

He scoops him up in his mouth and their journey begins. It'll be at least a week's worth of traveling before they reach the other side of the mountain. 

Without the cub he'd make it there sooner. Buck is forced to stop and find some place to hide the cub when he wants to hunt, which is irritating and inconvenient at best. 

The cub eats what he's given from the catch gratefully and with the urgency of someone who has not had much to eat in days. 

Buck nudges more of the meat towards Christopher, encouraging him to eat more when the cub hesitates a moment. 

After a days worth of traveling Buck finds them somewhere to rest until morning. They sleep in their respective corners. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


At the early crack of dawn Buck is awoken yet again to the sounds of sobbing. 

"Sorry." Christopher says, breathe hitching when he realizes the panther is up and watching him. 

Buck huffs, his nostrils flaring. With some effort, he shifts to his human form, wincing at the muscles he hasn't stretched in years. 

Christopher looks at him, wide eyed. 

It's been so long since he's shifted that Buck isn't entirely sure what he looks like anymore. He thinks his hair is blonde, even though his fur is a sleek black, almost blue. And of course he remembers the red birthmark at the side of his eye. But that's all that he remembers. 

He's probably scruffy looking from years of not shaving--though it's not as if he's ever grown much facial hair to begin with. 

When he speaks, his voice is rough from disuse. "Don't worry, we'll find your pack. I promise." 

Christopher's lip wobbles. "Mommy took me and ran away but I didn't wanna leave. She made me. And then a hunter got her." 

Buck grimaces. That's no good. Any mother would know that traveling with a cub, especially one who has difficulty moving on its own, should only be done in a pack. Otherwise you're easy pickings for hunters. 

"That's terrible, Christopher." Buck crouches down low, not exactly close, but close enough. "I'll get you home. Just a few more days." 

"What's your name?" 

The question startles him, but only because he hasn't been asked that in a long time. "Um, Evan Buckley." Once he's said it out loud he's not too fond of it. "You can call me Buck." 

"Buck." Christopher repeats, smiling softly. "Thank you for helping me Buck." 

The tiny grateful smile makes him look away. It's new, this feeling of being needed all of a sudden. "We should go. The sun is out." 

Christopher nods and shifts without being told. Buck shifts too and takes the cub by the scruff, leading them out into the woods. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Buck carries and feeds the cub and even gives him tongue baths in the days that follow. 

At night they shift into humans and Buck listens attentively to Christopher's stories about his pack. He learns their names and what they look like. 

Hen is a funny name for a panther, he thinks, but she sounds headstrong and that makes Buck believe that if they met in real life he would like her. 

Bobby and Athena are the leaders of the pack, though neither really act it, as far as Buck is concerned. He remembers the alpha in his old pack. The man had been rough and abrasive, with a waste not, want not attitude and little could ever be done to change his mind once he had decided on something. 

From how Christopher tells it, Bobby is a big old softy, with often overprotective tendencies. 

Athena is strong and fierce and loving, with two older cubs. 

There's Chimney (which is definitely a funny name, whether panther or human) and Maddie, who Christopher insists keep dancing around one another. 

When Buck laughs and asks him what exactly that means Christopher shrugs his shoulders and says, "I don't know, that's what daddy said." 

His dad, or Eddie, is another interesting one. He's funny, tough, affectionate, and very kind. Christopher very obviously admires the man, the way he talks about him, the stories he tells, all while grinning from ear to ear. 

"How about your pack?" Christopher wonders. "Are you lost too?" 

Buck looks down, playing with the string of his long sleeved tee. He doesn't want to bum the kid out so he just says, "No, Chris. I just prefer to be on my own, that's all." 

Christopher makes this face of melancholy, and though he doesn't say anything, it's clear that he doesn’t believe that one bit. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Buck finds himself caring more and more for the small cub, especially when he has to hide him in the hollows of tall trees when he's hunting. 

He gets sloppy on the fifth day, anxious to get back to the cub after catching a doe. He's rushing, and it's his own fault, not paying absolute attention to his surroundings, when he feels a sharp pain, something digging right into his left shoulder. 

Buck doesn't let it slow him down. He drops the doe and sprints away, his heart thundering in his chest. 

If there are hunters nearby he can't lead them to Christopher. He's going to need to lay low elsewhere for a while. He hopes Christopher is smart enough to stay in his hiding place and not make any noise to attract attention to himself. 

After what feels like hours Buck can't hear the hunters anymore. By now he's yanked the stupid arrow from his shoulder and spent some time licking his wound. It hurts like a sonofabitch and when he walks it's with a limp. 

When it's safe, he wanders back to find the cub. Christopher is huddled quietly, looking miserable and cold inside a mossy log. 

Buck signals for him to come out. 

The cub struggles for a moment, using limbs that have since become stiff with numbness, but makes it out ok. He cries out softly when he sees the damage Buck has taken. 

Buck bumps their noses together in reassurance before picking him up. By tonight they would have made it to Palo Alto, but with his injury, Buck is afraid they're going to have to wait to keep traveling until morning. 

He finds them shelter along the mountain and curls up with a pained huff. It's particularly cold today. 

Christopher shuffles over to him and tilts his head, whining. 

Buck huffs again, this time fondly exasperated and lets the cub lay right beside him, his head nuzzling his chest. 

Internally, he sighs. Of course he's managed to let the cub take place residing right in his heart. He's an idiot. He knows better. Or should. 

Giving him back tomorrow is going to hurt a lot worse than a hunter's arrow.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Morning comes too soon. 

Buck’s entire left side aches tremendously. The damn arrow hadn’t even gone that deep inside, and still the injury sight is hot to the touch and he is painfully aware that he might have an infection. He dreads the thought of having to go to Palo Altos’ healer for help. 

He hates asking for help. 

Christopher wakes up, excited because he knows today is the day he’ll be reunited with his pack. 

Buck is glad he’s in his panther form. His expressions are easier to mask this way. He’s sure if he were in his human form right now Christopher would be able to tell how disappointed Buck is. He’s grown way too fond of the cub. He’s sweet and silly and warm. Buck is going to miss him. 

With his shoulder messed up, Buck has to travel incognito. He makes sure to stay very low to the ground, holding the cub between his teeth. If anyone or anything were to strike right now he’s not sure he’d be able to defend Christopher, and that thought makes him frantic with a need to find those who can. 

They’re close, even with Buck being slowed down by his shoulder, they should be arriving soon. 

Another hour of trudging along later, Christopher chirps eagerly. 

In the distance, Buck can see several blurs running towards them. He stops mid-step and can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand in alertness.

The closest ones, two men and a woman, shift into panthers as they come into full sight. 

One of them, a dark brown and yellow panther, immediately hisses at Buck, snapping his jaws at the black panther. The other two circle him, closing off any chance of escape. 

Buck slowly sets the cub down on the ground, nosing at him to go to them when Christopher looks up at him instead of running. 

The action causes the panthers all to growl ferociously. 

The dark brown panther rushes Buck when he’s distracted by Christophers soft whine and has him on his back in an instant, one paw, claws drawn, on his neck, razor sharp teeth too close to his face for comfort. 

Buck wails in agony when the other panthers paw digs sharply into his wounded shoulder, and fails to shove him away. On a normal day, he’d be able to hold his own with the panther, but he’s weak and hurting, and extremely outnumbered. 

“STOP!” Christopher cries out, having shifted into his human form. “LEAVE BUCKY ALONE!” 

The menacing panther on top of him moves to get off of him instantly, shifting as he does so. 

“He helped me find you.” though not easy, Christopher makes it back to Buck’s side. He huddles over the downed panther protectively, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck. “Please don’t hurt him.” he begs, his tiny hands grasping at the black fur. 

Buck nestles his head into the crook of Christophers’ shoulder, exhausted. He does something then, that he hasn’t done since he was a cub. 

He purs. 

Despite his predicament, Buck feels so terribly safe, embraced by these tiny arms. It’s embarrassing, that he can be reduced to this, but also amazing. 

Around him, the rest of panthers transform too. 

“Christopher, baby, I’m sorry, I promise not to hurt your friend, ok?” the brown and yellow panther--who Buck thinks must be Christopher’s father--hovers above them, clearly anxious to get his cub back. 

Buck shifts, groaning in pain. “Christopher, go, your pack is waiting for you.” Gently, he pushes him towards the man who’d just been attacking him not one minute ago. 

Christopher lets himself be lead into his fathers’ arms. “Daddy, he’s hurt.” he cries. 

Eddie picks him up in his arms and shudders with relief. “We’ll fix him up, don’t worry baby.” he buries his nose into Christopher’s head and breathes in his cubs’ scent. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Buck stays conscious long enough to see another two panthers run up to the pack before giving into the darkness, content that Christopher, at least, is safe now. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Hours later Buck wakes up in unfamiliar territory. He leaps up in bed and hisses at the severe pain in his left shoulder. 

"Hey, woah, I know, painful, which is why I need you to lay back down and stay still." The brown and yellow panther,  _ Eddie _ , Buck's tired mind supplies, is standing over him, his brow furrowed in concern. 

He looks different now that he's not trying to rip his throat out. 

Buck lays back down, but he's hesitant. "Christopher ok?" 

Eddie's face turns into something tender. He nods. "He's alright. Nothing a good meal and some sleep in his own bed won't heal. Thanks to you."

Buck looks away but grunts an acknowledgment. 

Eddie bows his head. "I've been going crazy looking for him for over a week now with no luck. I found his mother's corpse yesterday and when I didn't find him there I thought--" he chokes on a sob. 

Buck thinks maybe it's something hereditary among the two males that makes the panther in him whine seeing either of them cry. It has to be. He lifts his hand to the man's scruffy face, caressing his cheek. 

This isn't the type of behavior a lone omega would or even should ever display towards a panther already in a pack. It's dangerous and most of all very unlike Buck. These are not things he does. He doesn't voluntarily seek contact like this. 

He comes to himself quickly enough and snatches his hand away as though bitten when he realizes what he's doing. 

Eddie makes a sad little growl in the back of his throat and looks up, brown eyes big. 

They stare at one another for a long time before Buck breaks eye contact and looks the other way. 

"I'm sorry got lunging at you like that, I--" 

Buck shakes his head. "You thought I took your cub. I wouldn't have hesitated." He knew the risks associated and had decided they were worth it; he's not mad at the other panther for acting on instinct. He's still surprised Eddie didn't just go straight for the throat. 

Eddie sighs. "I scared Christopher pretty bad. He's never seen me like that before." 

Buck tilts his head. "Do you mind if I see him one last time before I leave? I just wanted to say thank you. He saved me." 

Eddie blinks. "Of course. But...you know, you don't have to leave. At least not right away, if you don't want to. Hen says whatever made that--an arrow?" 

Buck nods. 

"The tip was laced with snake venom. She's shocked you made it as far as you did before collapsing. You're gonna need a lot of rest to recoup. I'd like it if you stayed here. We can look after you. It's the least I can do, after everything you went through to get Christopher back to me safe and sound." 

Buck bites his lip. He hates staying in one place for too long. It makes him ansty. "I don't think--" 

"Christopher would really like it if you let us help. He's worried sick about you." Eddie interrupts. 

Buck narrows his eyes. "That's just playing dirty." 

Eddie smiles. "Yeah, but it's the truth." 

So Buck decides to stay. 

But only for a little while. Only until he regains full use of his arm again. And then he's gone. 

Or at least, that's what he tells himself. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I might write a part 2 in the future bc lonely panther buck finding a family/pack makes me wanna cry 
> 
> Thanks for reading 😊


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